


Acquired Resistance

by The Big Roman (Hammocker)



Series: A World of One Color [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Bathing/Washing, Caretaking, Established Relationship, Franz Kafka References, Jason is exhausted, M/M, Sickfic, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 11:47:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12747687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammocker/pseuds/The%20Big%20Roman
Summary: The first thing Jason remembered was being ice cold. Everything spiraled from there.





	Acquired Resistance

**Author's Note:**

> Does anyone have any good recommendations for comics involving Jason and Dick's relationship? Or Jason and Tim's? I need some points of reference for- reasons. Related to this series. Comics are a pain to sift through for what you really need, so it'd be appreciated.

Jason noticed the cold first. A chill that cut through to his core and made him shiver. He thought he was back in one of his drafty old safe houses, and that he’d maybe wake up with a sore limb or two. But no, there was a body next to him. It wasn’t especially warm, but it was warmer than he felt. He edged towards it, wanting to latch on, but he found his limbs were heavy and awkward. It was just too much effort.

It was then that Roman moved next to him, sitting up easily. Jason blinked his eyes open with some effort and tilted his head to look at Roman. He opened his mouth to greet him or quip or something, but it was like the words were stuck in his throat. Physically stuck.

Roman leaned over Jason, the soulless, blank stare coming a little too close. Jason should have been used to that, but still he felt a primal fear set in. The delusion that Roman might just hurt or kill him. And, well, maybe that wasn’t as delusional as Jason would have liked.

Roman seemed to consider Jason carefully before laying a palm on his forehead. Jason whined, overwhelmed by the barrage of sensations from just that touch. His brain was already feeling a lot like it had been in a frying pan too long; he didn’t need anything else on top of that. Yet still his limbs just wouldn’t move to shove Roman away.

“Goddamn,” Roman hissed under his breath.

He stood up from the bed, and, again, Jason whined. He made to sit up as well, barely moving an inch, but Roman shoved him back down right away.

“Stay,” he ordered. “I’m not hauling you back onto the bed.”

“Wha…?” Jason managed.

He’d never seen Roman act like this before, not even on either of their worst days. What was the deal? Jason was a little cold and a bit groggy, sure, but he’d be able to get up in a minute or two.

Jason felt the opposite side of the bed shift up, then heard Roman’s footsteps crossing the room before, finally, the door leading into the hall creaked open. Typical. He couldn’t really expect anything else from Roman with how things worked in his organization. Roman might have been deliberate and methodical, but he was always busy.

Well, at least Jason had an excuse to stay in bed a while longer. He could sleep off the grogginess in that time. With that in mind, Jason let his head tip to the side and shut his already heavy eyes. He yawned and relaxed his shoulders, bringing one hand up over his belly.

And just as Jason was getting comfortable, something heavy was dropped over him.

He sucked in a breath and squirmed underneath the new weight, eyes flying open. Roman was standing over him once more and he’d just slapped another blanket over Jason.

“Fuck are you doing?”

A second blanket was practically whipped over top of him, drawing a grunt. “You disturbed me, shivering like that.”

“I’ve woken up cold plenty of times before,” Jason said, squirming beneath the added weight. “Never minded before.”

“You’re a bad liar, Jason,” Roman said, all the while adjusting the blankets so they better covered him. “Now, do me a solid and don’t do anything stupid.”

“Figured everything I do is stupid,” Jason said, grinning despite himself.

“Exactly.”

On that note, Roman turned and exited the room once again. Probably for good this time. Whatever he was concerned about, it wasn’t pressing enough to keep Jason under surveillance constantly.

The additional blankets kept him from shifting around much, but the chill was gone. If anything, he was too warm now, but it was nothing to fuss over. He could get some more sleep like this. Would have been nicer with another body next to his, but- well, maybe he was getting too used to that anyway.

On that thought, Jason turned his head to the side and allowed his eyes to shut. Blooms of color and light that wasn’t really light seemed to project onto his eyelids. Reds and greens and dark blues, almost like flowers. Shapeless, massless flowers that led him right into a dreamless sleep.

*****

When Jason flitted back into consciousness, his head was pounding. He was still so tired, but it was impossible to ignore the pain. It was like the worst hangover he’d ever had and then some. Some aspirin might help.

At least Jason could move his limbs again, if only barely. He squirmed up towards the headboard, managing to sit up with all his effort. It was at that moment that a firm hand pressed against his chest.

“What did I specifically tell you not to do?”

So maybe Roman was more attentive than he’d let on. Not like that helped Jason.

“Aspirin?” Jason pleaded, eyes cracking open. 

Roman had pulled up a chair at his bedside, and was shaking his head. “So now you can’t take a little pain?”

“If I can help it,” Jason mumbled, hoping that the desperation came through in his voice.

“Jason, Jason…” Roman clicked his tongue even as he reached over and took a pill bottle off of the bedside table. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Give me drugs,” Jason offered with a pained smile.

“Careful what you wish for, son.”

In spite of his words, Roman stood up and over Jason, pills in hand. Jason tried to reach out, only for Roman to slap his arm back down. Jason didn’t have to be told what to do. It was just like when Roman hand-fed him, except now he was being taken advantage of with a virus. Great.

Jason opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out just past his lip. Just like that, Roman reached out and about shoved the pills into Jason’s mouth, forcing them towards his throat. Jason swallowed reflexively and thank God he was used to taking pills dry. Roman’s gloved fingers stayed in his mouth for a split second too long, like a declaration. When he finally pulled out, Jason was left with only the sharp taste of leather.

“Good boy,” Roman muttered, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it.

Jason couldn’t help but preen. He’d never really gotten used to praise, and now Roman was using that against him. Another wonderful perk of sleeping with a high-functioning psycho.

Figuring they were done, Jason made to roll over and go back to sleep. Before he could find the energy to do that, though, Roman presented a glass of water right in front of his face.

“I got them down, I’m fine,” Jason said, turning his head away.

Still, Roman held the glass steady.

“You are not fine. Drink.”

“So I’ve got a cold, it’s nothing,” Jason insisted. “What’s your problem?”

Roman didn’t move a muscle. “You either drink, or I’m sticking an IV in you.”

An IV wouldn’t have been so bad. Jason had had them enough times already to not mind. But it was obvious that Roman was fed up.

So Jason leaned forward and took the glass’ rim to his lips, and Roman tipped it forward accordingly. Jason sipped obediently, but Roman wasn’t letting up. Sips turned into gulps as Roman held the glass more and more horizontal. Jason didn’t even have the time to complain between keeping any water from spilling on himself.

Only when the glass was empty did Roman finally take it away.

“Now was that so hard?” Roman asked, tone taking on that too-sweet quality that Jason knew all too well.

“Uh-uh,” Jason mumbled with defeat.

His head was already swimming again, and he felt himself start to slump. Was that aspirin Roman had given him? Or maybe motrin? Tylenol? Aceto- acetomino- acetominoph...

*****

Jason woke up. Or maybe he didn’t. It was getting harder to tell. He blinked up at the ceiling, his mouth and nose and- everything, all completely dry. He might as well have been blinking with sandpaper.

Everything seemed slightly out of focus. Swaying, but not really. He thought he saw Roman somewhere in the shadows, watching him. His face seemed- different. Was he wearing a different mask? Or was it just the light? Jason tried to say something, but nothing came out and he blinked a few more times before finally just giving in and closing them back up.

He thought he felt a hand on his head, but it might have only been sleep claiming him again.

*****

When Jason woke up again, his headache was gone. As he shifted his left arm, sure enough, he felt an IV stuck to it, just like Roman had threatened.

“Fever’s worse than I thought.”

Jason startled and turned his head, surprised to find Roman sitting next to the bed, with a book opened in his lap. Jason let out a long groan.

“‘S just a cold,” Jason scoffed weakly. “Don’t know what you’re worrying ‘bout.”

“Colds don’t put your temperature up to 104.”

Jason couldn’t remember Roman taking his temperature. “How…?”

“Rectally,” Roman said, even flatter than usual.

Jason did a double take and stared wide-eyed at Roman. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to that kind of thing, but… Jesus, he couldn’t actually tell if Roman was serious or not.

“Are you- are you fucking with me?” Jason croaked, and tried to cover himself up further with his blanket. 

Roman gave a rough sigh before gesturing to the bedside table. Jason followed the motion, and, to his relief, there was a handheld forehead thermometer. Oh. Asshole. No pun intended.

“I’m gonna get some soup,” Roman said, standing up. He didn’t stretch and no joints cracked, but something in his posture told Jason that he’d been sitting there for longer than he let on.

“Don’t bother, I’m not hungry.”

“Sure, you’re not,” Roman said flatly, turning his back to Jason. “But you’ll eat. I’ll make sure of that.”

Jason had no comeback to that at all. All he could do was sink back against the pillows, swallowing around the painful rasp in his throat.

Roman paused for a fraction of a second, almost like he was waiting for Jason to rebel against him again. When Jason didn’t, he walked back out the door without a word.

Jason sighed and stared back at the ceiling. The truth was that he was just too weak to push back against Roman at present. Now that was a scary thought, being helpless in the enemy’s clutches, but he supposed he had been all along. Jason guessed that it proved Roman didn’t want to murder him. Or maybe Roman just had bigger plans. Snuffing him out while he was bedridden would have been too easy and straightforward for him. Maybe beneath all the cut-and-dry gangster stuff, Black Mask loved over-the-top theatrics just as much as Joker or Riddler or any supervillain. Jason snickered, but had to cut it short with a wince.

At least it didn’t take long before Roman returned, with a tray with a bowl and another glass of water. He didn’t speak, just placed the tray on Jason’s lap, before sitting back down with the book. He flipped it back up, but Jason couldn’t tell if he was reading or observing.

Jason looked down at the bowl. It smelled like chicken soup, something Alfred would have made the few times he’d ever been sick. It filled him with equal parts nostalgia and disgust. It didn’t smell bad, just- too much.

The water was safer, and he had a sip of it, regretting it immediately. It seemed too thin, somehow, hurting his throat more than it helped, and he put it down again with a grimace.

“Not gonna feed yourself?” Roman said, his eyes clearly on the bowl of soup now. “Didn’t train that out of you, did I?”

Jason huffed and turned away, blinking slowly as sleep threatened to claim him again.

“If you want a little personal touch, you just have to ask.”

“Wanna bring me some flowers then?”

No reply from Roman. He just sat there like a statue.

“It just-” Jason squirmed. “It smells so heavy.”

“It’ll help,” Roman said in a way that was clearly meant to end the conversation.

“Thank you, really, but I think I should just sleep some more.” It felt odd, thanking him. Had he ever in the past, outside of the fetish talk they shared in bed? Jason wasn’t sure. Clearly Roman was rattled as well, because there was a shift in his stony posture.

“You need to eat,” he said with a renewed certainty.

Roman stood and approached him, taking the spoon in his hand.

He wasn’t.

“Come on, I don’t have all day,” Roman prompted, lifting a spoonful out, letting it drip for a minute, and holding it to Jason’s mouth.

He was.

So there he lay, about to be spoon fed by the head of one of Gotham’s largest criminal empires. It was humiliating, somehow more so than the handfeeding, but complaining would only make it worse.

Funny thing was, Jason doubted Roman would be doing this at all if he didn’t have all day. Had it even been a day yet? How long had he been lying in bed? He felt like he’d been sleeping for so long, but he was still exhausted. Maybe Roman had a point after all.

After a long hesitation, Jason opened his mouth and accepted the spoonful. He felt his stomach turn just slightly in an effort to reject it, but forced himself to swallow all the same. God, he wasn’t sure if he could eat it. Or eat it without it coming back up. Yet, somehow, he wanted to keep going.

Jason opened his mouth again and let Roman feed him another bite. The second was easier, if only a little. He chewed more this time and it brought more of the flavor out and- God. He shut his eyes as he suppressed a moan. Maybe his memory was getting fuzzy, but it reminded him too much of Alfred’s soup. Rich broth with just enough salt, perfect rotisserie chicken, and chunks of celery and carrots that were just the right size. And, per usual, Roman was right; as he swallowed, Jason felt his throat ease and his nose clear a bit.

“Didn’t tell you to stop,” Roman said, pulling him out of his state of bliss.

Sure enough, when Jason opened his eyes, another spoonful was presented to him. He rolled his eyes and did his best not to take the bite too quickly.

That’s how it went on for a while, Roman feeding him and only giving enough time for Jason to chew before pushing more onto him. Not that Jason was in much of a position to complain about being force fed delicious soup. He’d faced real torture, after all. This little predicament was just silly in comparison.

“Influenza,” Roman declared suddenly, exasperation palpable. 

“Huh?” Jason managed as he chewed.

“Influenza. You picked it up somewhere,” Roman said, speaking slowly like Jason was stupid. “When’s the last time you got vaccinated?”

“Dunno,” Jason admitted readily. “‘Fore I left ”

“Goddammit, Jason,” Roman growled, pausing the feeding for a moment. “You’re costing me. Time is money.”

Jason swallowed with a wince. “Don’t have to look after me. Dealt with worse.”

“And you still haven’t learned enough to get a damn flu shot. You know how much shit you’re exposed to out there?”

Jason mumbled something incoherent, turning his head away.

“How am I supposed to trust your judgment, son?” Roman demanded, grabbing Jason by the hair and forcing his head back. “Do I need to be thinking about you getting tetanus?”

Jason grumbled. He couldn’t remember his last tetanus booster, actually. He must have had one sometime before he died. He hadn’t bothered with doctors since he’d stopped living full-time with Bruce. He’d kind of figured that the Lazarus Pit gave him heightened immunity, but apparently it couldn’t keep the flu away. Maybe Roman had a point.

Roman sighed and let go of Jason. He picked the tray back up, turning to leave.

“We’re gonna have a word about this when you’re not delirious.”

“‘M fi-ine,” Jason groaned, even as his eyelids started drooping once again. “You worry too much.”

“It’s not worrying, Jason,” Roman said, sitting back down and picking his book back up. “It’s cost-weighing.”

“And I’m heavy?” Jason guessed, smiling despite himself.

Roman didn’t reply to that, just opened his book back up and focused on it. It was still the same book too. God, was that all Roman did for fun? Did Roman even have “fun”?

“What’re you reading?” he asked

“Kafka.”

“The Trial?” Jason guessed.

“The Castle.”

“Hm.” Jason let his head tilt back thoughtfully. “Yeah. Yeah, that seems like your kind of thing.”

Roman gave a noncommittal grunt, but no real reply, then went back to reading.

“Read to me?” Jason asked after a few minutes. He knew it was a stretch, but hey, no one could blame him for trying.

“No,” Roman said flatly. “Go back to sleep.”

Now wasn’t that nice to hear. Probably the nicest thing he’d heard all week. He let his eyes close and felt his consciousness slip away. Even as that happened, though, Jason could have sworn that he heard a passage from The Castle in his head.

“Our winters are very long here, very long and very monotonous. But we don't complain about it downstairs, we're shielded against the winter.”

It shouldn’t have been a soothing thing to hear, but something about the way he heard it. The particular voice. It was comforting. He listened for as long as he could manage.

“Oh, spring does come eventually, and summer, and they last for a while, but now, looking back, spring and summer seem too short…”

*****

Jason woke next with a long, pleasant yawn. His first sight as his eyes cracked open was strong, afternoon sunlight drifting across the wall. No headache, sore throat nearly gone, and breathing fine. He even felt pretty well-rested. Only problem was that his bladder felt like it was about ready to explode.

Sitting up, Jason glanced around the room and found no trace of Roman. Thank God. Jason had been beginning to worry that he was being watched in his sleep. Not like that wasn’t something Roman already probably did, given that they shared a bed. That was weird, not having Roman next to him, gripping him. Maybe it was the fever, but he kind of missed that. Just a little.

Layer by layer, Jason peeled off the blankets keeping him in place. Slowly, a chill set in, just like when this all had first started. He needed to make this quick.

Jason stood up slowly, using the bedside table as leverage at first. His IV was gone at least, making the process a little simpler. When he finally felt ready to walk, he made his way over to the en suite. Despite drawn curtains, a bit of sunlight filtered in from the room’s one window. Could it have been only one day since this had started? He doubted it, but it almost felt like it could have been. And maybe it was the flu after all, but, aside from the cold in his bones, the room seemed warmer than usual. 

Jason shut the bathroom door behind himself and gave a small sigh of relief as he approached the toilet. He felt alone in here at least. Roman had never been much into shower sex.

He really needed to report in. If he delayed much longer, Bruce was going to get worried, Jason knew all too well. He’d lost Jason once and wasn’t about to repeat that experience. If push came to shove, Bruce definitely wasn’t above breaking in to look for Jason and that had the potential to ruin everything.

Everything. What exactly constituted “everything” was the real question, but Jason didn’t really want the answer to that.

Jason flushed, rinsed his hands, and pushed the door back open, fully intent on going straight back to bed.

As he stepped out, though, he found Roman standing in the room, waiting.

Jason stood stock still as he stared and Roman stared back. Jason couldn’t put his finger on exactly why Roman’s stare suddenly unnerved him, but something about it felt like a dare. A dare to do what, though, he wasn’t sure, and he kept still. After a minute, Roman took a step towards him and slowly closed the gap between them. He looked Jason up and down for a long moment, until finally he spoke.

“You look like shit.”

“Hi to you too,” Jason said, making to step around Roman.

Roman put a firm hand on Jason’s chest, stopping him in his tracks.

“Stay,” he ordered.

Before Jason could ask anything, Roman shoved him aside and stalked into the bathroom. Jason narrowed his eyes and twisted his lip. He wanted to ask what the hell his problem was, but he figured that he’d asked that enough times lately. So he settled for watching Roman with a sour look on his face.

Roman crouched down over the tub and first flipped the drain shut. He turned the faucet on next, and putting his hand near, not in, the water to test it. He stayed like that, near perfectly still as he waited for the tub to fill. It still amazed Jason how Roman could make awkward postures like that look so- not. Jason knew that he’d have looked at least a little ridiculous doing the exact same thing.

“I’m not really-”

A short, firm, “No” cut him off immediately.

Jason snorted. Sometimes he didn’t know why he even bothered arguing with Roman. It always ended the same way, with Roman getting his way, usually to Jason’s detriment. But then, he had been sweating pretty badly and was feeling pretty gross. Plus, the extra heat would be nice. 

Once it was filled to a certain point, Roman twisted the faucet off and stood back up.

“Get in,” Roman said, gesturing to the water.

Jason hesitated, and, big shock, Roman stayed where he was, waiting just like Jason was waiting.

“And, what, you’re just gonna stand there and watch?” he asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Wouldn’t want you to fall asleep and drown,” Roman said, the subtlest edge of sarcasm to his voice. “That’d be awful.”

“Yeah. Awfully funny,” Jason muttered as he walked back into the bathroom.

If Roman heard him, he didn’t make any acknowledgment of it. With nothing else to be done, Jason sighed and made short work of stripping off his boxers, the only protection he still had from Roman’s piercing gaze. Not that Roman’s eyes hadn’t already been all over him so many times before.

Jason stepped into the tub and sank in slowly. He couldn’t help but sigh as the fluid warmth engulfed his still too cold body. The water might have been a little too warm on a good day, but not when Jason had been freezing in his own shell. 

He settled into the bath with relative ease, but it was impossible to ignore the black figure looming in the corner of his eye. Roman had planted his feet and wasn’t moving. Jason didn’t know what else he expected. All he could do was grab some soap and start scrubbing.

It felt almost symbolic. Jason laid flat out in a tub, completely naked and vulnerable; Roman standing over him, fully clothed and perfectly in control. If Roman had wanted to drown Jason, he could have, but all he did was silently exert his expectations. Yet Roman was also a gatekeeper. Jason shuddered to think of what might happen to anyone stupid or unlucky enough to walk into the room right at that moment.

“Turn your back to me, Jason,” Roman ordered.

Jason started at his words. God, how did Roman do that? Always pick the exact time when Jason least expected him to do something and do it right then? He turned to give Roman a cockeyed glare, even as words escaped him. He knew exactly what Roman had in mind, and he wasn’t especially in the mood.

“You heard me, son,” Roman said, taking on a firmer tone. “Move.”

Jason made a point to grumble even as he did as he was told. As soon as his eyes were pointed at the wall, he heard Roman move out of the room before returning in short order. Jason heard something be set down just behind him, and then he felt Roman’s presence behind him. He’d dragged a stool in to sit, and wasn’t that a weird thing to picture.

It only got stranger as Roman started scooping up water to wet Jason’s hair with. His gloves were gone and his sleeves rolled up a bit. The glimpses Jason caught might have been the most skin he’d ever seen from Roman. 

“Why-”

“Shut up,” Roman cut in on the first syllable. “Unless it’s a thank you, I don’t want to hear it.”

Jason wasn’t sure what the repercussions might be if he didn’t listen, but he wasn’t interested in finding out right then. So he let Roman keep on doing what he wanted to do. Then, when his hair was sufficiently wet, Jason heard a shampoo bottle click open, and soon after, Roman’s hands were on his scalp, massaging insistently.

“Oh my _God_ ,” Jason moaned, eyes threatening to roll up in his head.

“What did I just say?” Roman asked, digging three of his nails into Jason’s sensitive flesh.

Jason hissed, and, for once, broke immediately.

“Thank you. Sir.” Jason said with as much dignity as he could muster, and Roman resumed his gentle washing.

“Better.”

For a while they stayed quiet, nothing between them but the subtle sound of suds and water. Jason’s breathing slowed until it felt like minutes between each inhale and exhale. Roman knew damn well that Jason’s head was his weak point, but he’d never gone this far when he’d exploited that in the past. It didn’t even feel like exploitation just then.

The whole interaction seemed oddly domestic and not at all what Jason had come to expect from Roman. He wasn’t sure if he needed to be scared or not. If Roman had ulterior motives. But, hell, since when had that worry stopped him?

Jason leaned back against Roman’s fingers, closing his eyes. It was the most comfortable he’d been since this started, which was, what? Two, three days? A week? He couldn’t really say. Roman hadn’t allowed him any indication of time except the occasional sun or moonlight from a single window.

Roman broke the silence by filling his palms with more water and letting it cascade over Jason’s head and shoulders. It still felt- weird. Jason didn’t know how to explain it, so he did what he always did in situations where he didn’t have control.

“Am I clean enough to be allowed back in your bed?” Jason joked, turning his head to look at Roman. Something changed, then, and they were back to whatever they were before the bath.

“Barely,” Roman answered, and if Jason didn’t know any better he’d say he sounded relieved. “Get done and come back out.”

Then he stood up, and before Jason could ask questions or say much of anything, he’d already rinsed his hands off and put his gloves back on. Then, with a final glance, he left the bathroom.

Jason sat there, wet like a drowned cat, wondering what the hell had just happened.

*****

Roman was sitting by the bed when Jason emerged five minutes later, wrapped in one of Roman’s luxurious bathrobes. He had his book out in front of him, like he hadn’t moved at all, and he didn’t glance up at Jason before Jason sat down on the bed.

“You feel better?” Roman asked, his voice polished and polite like he was asking any random passerby about the weather. Jason scoffed at that idea. Roman talking to plebs on the street. No way.

“Yeah, I guess,” Jason said, scratching the back of his head. “Still tired, though.”

“Then go to bed.” Roman didn’t even look at him while he said it, just kept reading.

“But you-” Jason cut himself off and shook his head. Roman didn’t ask what he meant, didn’t shift his position, so Jason just lifted the covers and crawled under them.

“Thank you,” Jason mumbled after a while, staring up at the ceiling. He caught Roman looking up from his peripheral vision.

“You’re welcome,” he said simply.

That was- different. Somehow. He couldn’t place why or how and he was too close to falling asleep again to make sense of it. That’s what he needed to make sense of it. A little more sleep. That sounded really nice, and as he pondered how nice it sounded, Jason drifted off.

*****

When Jason woke up again, thin rays of moonlight danced over the wall in front of him. For a long moment he thought he was still dreaming, still caught in a dream so vivid that he couldn’t move. Then he realized that Roman was lying next to him, one heavy, gloveless hand around his waist. He blinked slowly, still staring at the light on the wall, too dazed to really realize what Roman was doing. Maybe it really was a dream, but it didn’t quite feel like how dreams usually felt.

It felt right. Too right, for dreams or reality. But still, he was pretty confident that he was at least half-awake.

Jason blinked and turned his head to look at Roman. He was asleep, or Jason was pretty sure he was anyway. His shoulders were down, his head resting effortlessly on one of the many pillows. Roman was never so relaxed when he was awake. Self-assured and confident, yes, but not relaxed. The change was small, and Jason had a hunch that he wouldn’t have even noticed it if he wasn’t around Roman so often. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

He knew that no matter what happened now, things would be back to normal in the morning. Roman would be Black Mask and Jason would be a double agent, and none of what had happened would be mentioned ever again. That was how it worked, how it _had_ to work.

Jason swallowed thickly, placing one hand over Roman’s. It felt like the right thing to do, as wrong as it was. As much as Roman would have barked at him for trying to do the same in the daylight. Jason shut his eyes tightly, feeling his chest grow heavy, gently intertwining their fingers.

It was crazy, all of it. Everything they'd done, and everything Jason felt. Maybe it was just the fever. Jason decided that it was that and nothing more, ignoring the fact that his fever had already broken and he was well on his way to being normal again. Everything always had to go back to how it always was, one way or another.

Even so, he fell asleep with their hands twined together, feeling better than he had in a long time. It was nice to pretend that there was or ever could be something more between them, even for a little while.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh God, I'm so scared this comes off as too sentimental. I kinda wanted to have something that's not quite as cold as most JayRoman stuff, but I hope I didn't go over so it's not believable. I dunno, what do you think?


End file.
